


The Dance

by seraph5



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Cults, First Time, Hurt/Comfort, Imprisonment, M/M, Rescue, Restraints, Sex, Top Crowley (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-06
Updated: 2019-03-06
Packaged: 2019-11-12 19:35:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18017069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seraph5/pseuds/seraph5
Summary: Aziraphale suspects there might be more to sex than meets the eye and Crowley goes missing for an alarming amount of time.





	The Dance

**Author's Note:**

> Hey all! There is a little bit of gore and mentions of torture/restraining in this fic though it certainly isn't the focus. This fic is sexually explicit. Enjoy the splash zone ;)

Aziraphale never forgot the first time he saw a couple making love. Not that he went looking for that sort of thing or that sex was a rare occurrence worth coveting. There was plenty of the random rutting of human mating (so much so that he wondered if they weren’t perhaps related a little more closely to rabbits then monkeys) an act which he decided he wasn’t interested in thank you very much. By and large beyond a certain scientific curiosity mating of any kind seemed relatively disinteresting. After all, it was not something he would ever benefit from and once you’d seen it the mysticism of reproduction was somewhat dispelled. 

He’d been on his way to market to pick up the exciting product of a new invention - mechanically pressed paper - when he caught movement in a nearby window. He lifted his hand to miracle the curtain closed as they had clearly forgotten it was open but then stopped. The young man and woman were standing in a bedroom kissing very slowly, the warm light of morning draping a strip of illumination across their skin. They were swaying softly almost as if to music and smiling between caresses. His fingers touched her ribs and stomach and arms and she shuddered as if small shocks of electricity were passing between with every touch. He held her close against his body trailing his hand down her spine all the while their gentle sway continued. Even the rhythm of them pressing against each other as they finally fell to the bed was elegant. They turned over and held each other down, stretched and were inside one another. They moved as one. They laughed and mewed with ecstasy. Till finally with her back pressed against his chest, his hand between her legs, his penis deep inside they froze in a shared sonorous moan. 

Aziraphale realised then, with shock, that they had entranced him. He, an angel, ever quickly sailing along the river of time, never involved too much in any human routine, had forgotten himself. Their arms went around each other and his interrupted movement of closing the curtain ended as he miracled it shut with a gentle gust of wind. After a moment of contemplation, he continued on his way.

It was many a hundred year before he mentioned it to anyone. Not until he was surrounded by a bawdy pub off a playhouse and accompanied by a demon. In essence, it was an apt time. Crowley sat down at the rickety wooden table and handed him a frothy mug of what was currently passing for alcohol. Aziraphale watched the eddies of foam with distaste.

“Thank you, my dear,” he said politely in spite of his disgust “Sometimes I really do miss Rome”

Any passerby might have taken this to mean he was a surprisingly well-travelled man. Crowley, however, knew Rome meant of the ‘ancient’ variety; stone, wine, the birth of modern entertainment, sandals. 

“They did know how to throw a party” he agreed gazing around, holding his drink as if also working up the courage to down it “When do you think this playwright is going to get here?”

“My people said ‘at the zenith of the moon's light’ or some such” Aziraphale replied.

“Mine weren’t any clearer. What’s your plan then? Suppose you want to compel him to write things that suggest people do good deeds or pay their taxes on time or something” Crowley goaded narrowly pulling his chair in to avoid a scuffle between two patrons behind their table.

“His words will echo throughout the ages, or at least that’s what I’ve been told. Naturally, we would rather they ring positively”

“Good luck” Crowley snorted “So far they’ve been littered with dick jokes” 

The Arrangement had been in effect for long enough that they were not going to come to blows over which side this playwright fell on. Quite the contrary. While Crowley did have a tendency to rub him up the wrong way he was always keener to settle things with words and over an overpriced meal. He thought on how lucky he was to have someone of Crowley's disposition in the trenches with him. Or at least someone to share commiserations over the fall of the Roman empire.

As they debated what each was allowed to do in the coming discussions with the playwright a pair of people fell against the back wall of the pub in the murky shadows. They were sloppily sucking and groping each other and the man was hungrily hiking up the woman's dress in spite of the unsanitary and very public location. 

Aziraphale glanced at Crowley who to his surprise was sporting a similarly repulsed expression as his own.

“I don’t know why they don’t just do it the other way” Aziraphale commented knowingly deciding this display warranted at least one pull of the drink in his cup. 

“What other way?” Crowley turned to him with an expression of curious concern as if whatever way Aziraphale was referencing might, in fact, be worse. 

“You know,” Aziraphale said meaningfully. He had always privately assumed that Crowley would have already tried every way there was to copulate sometime over the last few thousand years. As he surveyed Crowley's blank expression he wondered for the first time whether he’d been wrong. 

“Oh,” Aziraphale said in a slightly higher pitched tone then looked back to his drink.

“Angel”

“Hm?” Aziraphale replied innocently as if having already forgotten their line of discussion. 

“What other way?” He snapped impatiently.

“It’s nothing I just - I once saw a couple...copulating back in the 2nd century but it wasn’t anything like that” Aziraphale explained awkwardly nodding to the pair being asked to leave yet continuing on “It was different”

“Different how?” 

“You’ll laugh”

“I won’t”

Aziraphale searched Crowley's eyes for a hint of a lie. His features were pulled into an immovable open expression. Behind a pair of small black glasses, his gold eyes held steady and unblinkingly. 

“It was...sort of like a dance. It was beautiful and slow and deep. It was like there was no time and all of time. It was like in a moment they shared eternity” Aziraphale tried to explain transported back to the tender display. 

“Pfft” Crowley dismissed downing his cup.

“It was” Aziraphale said defensively “in any case it was a whole lot better than thrusting in the mud”

As the couple finally fell out the door a young man with ink blotted hands stepped in over them carrying a wrapped stack of papers. He was completely unfazed. 

“Maybe we can ask young Will what he thinks of your ‘dance’ idea then,” Crowley said teasingly and stood to take his agreed upon ‘first crack’ at the playwright. 

By the time they sat down to watch Shakespeare's final play on stage many years later, Aziraphale had forgotten the conversation. His main reflection on that time was how happy he was with how Shakespeare and his works turned out. A perfect example of a well-balanced influence. Time marched staunchly on. 

* * * 

It took Aziraphale a long time to realise Crowley was missing. They could go for years without meeting as long as either side didn't have anything too big in the works. But when the anniversary of 6 years of silence passed he decided that was altogether too long. If pressed by a theoretical interested party he would say he decided to make contact just to catch up on current events. In truth, though 6 years was a blip on the history of the world, without Crowley they had gone by like a pebble in his shoe. Uncomfortably, with the occasional ache and a persistent nagging desire to end that state. The conspicuous space the demon had left in his life eventually swallowed up Aziraphale’s pride. 

He treated himself to a stagecoach ride to Crowley's as a salve for his bruised dignity. When he arrived however he found the residence ominously occupied by strangers. Strangers that couldn’t recall anyone by Crowley’s description having ever lived there. 

Confused and somewhat perturbed he moved on. It was unlike Crowley to up and relocate without giving him a new address. Ever since The Arrangement began they ensured contact was always possible if not easy. Aziraphale decided to check Crowley's local haunts. There had been occasions where he'd gone on benders that lasted a while. 6 years was a bit excessive but then, Aziraphale thought, he was a demon after all. 

One by one each tavern pleaded ignorance to Crowley’s existence. The final denial made Aziraphale's stomach lurch. Had he been taken back to hell? Had he abandoned The Arrangement without notification? Had he died somehow? Why could no-one remember him? It wasn't like he was inconspicuous. The demon somehow managed to always maintain a memorable yet intangible mystique. Like he might be a ruler in disguise amongst the common folk. The longer he analysed Crowley's absence the more a sick feeling developed. 

He began to consider more dangerous methods of location. Generally speaking, he and Crowley avoided any means of communication that involved contacting ‘management’ for help with one another. Asking heaven to track a demon would lead to awkward questions. Even conjuring too many miracles in an unapproved amount of time led to a not so gentle reprimand. 

In spite of this, he found himself turning into an empty alleyway and checking his bag for candles and flint.

“He has pertinent information to our um….he carries a relic which could-no…” he said to himself trying to find reasons that heaven might help him find but not smite a demon “I want to ask him who his tailor is?”

He noticed something in his peripheral vision and looked up. He expected an attempted assault but instead found himself surrounded by figures in religious looking garb. He did not recognize them as being from his side or Crowley's.

“Um yes hello. Who are you and what do you want?” Aziraphale asked putting the candle he was holding back into his bag.

“We are the brotherhood of night” One hooded figure spoke and as he did Aziraphale noticed a soft yellow glow coming from under their hoods.

“Strictly speaking we are more of a collective of darkness,” said another.

“I thought we agreed we were the United People's of Power?” asked a third. 

“Silence!” Snapped the first “we are the knife in the shadows, we are the endless coming darkness, we distort and defile souls unbidden”

“Ah” said Aziraphale slightly more annoyed “Are you meddling with the local's minds then? This place was a quaint little village a few years back-”

“We will imbibe this village!” The second raised his voice “and then the world”

“Good lord” Aziraphale groaned. Every few hundred years a group of humans would accidentally tap into the resources of heaven or hell and assume an inflated sense of importance. They raised oddly shaped swords to his neck. 

“Come with us” 

Aziraphale agreed with irritation. 

“I don't suppose you've seen a slim chap in dark garments and black glasses?” Aziraphale asked as he began walking with them. He suspected that somehow this was all Crowley's fault.

“That demon has given us the power of kings,” said one. 

“That sounds right” Aziraphale grumbled.

“Two demons will give us the power of gods” commented another with a laugh like a rattle. 

“Excuse me!” Aziraphale blustered “Do you take me for a demon?”

A wreath was tossed over his head. He had a vague realisation that it was comprised of agrinomy root splattered with blood before the world went dark. 

‘Pagans’ was the last eye rolling thought that ran through his mind as he fell unconscious. 

* * * 

When the wreath was removed and he woke he found himself kneeling tied to a post in a broad cavern. Surrounding him in a half circle were cloaked figures bowing and muttering and before him sitting on a raised throne was their apparent leader. Malevolence flowed off him like waves crashing through the room. Aziraphale bristled at the unseemly position he found himself in and was close to beginning a comprehensive chastising when he noticed something man-shaped pinned like an insect to the wall behind and to the right of the throne. 

He was surrounded by bloody runic scrawlings. He was mostly naked aside from a small amount of fabric around his waist through Aziraphale wasn’t sure if this was mercy or a sign of Crowley’s reduced ability to will changes into reality. He couldn’t see any other reason Crowley would allow the steel rods that were driven through his body, his wings and into the wall to remain if he could remove them. Why he would let the cuts in his flesh bleed freely. Why his head stayed bound with stained leather straps. Why he looked so expired even though when Aziraphale searched his gaunt face his eyes opened a slit showing life remained. The tarnished gold light of his eyes found him. He breathlessly mouthed the angel’s name.

The chanting of the monks was getting louder and harsher. The leader stood.

“Bestow unto us your power great demon!” The leader shouted and joined the chanting.

Aziraphale wondered as he pushed himself to his feet, how long Crowley had been left to bleed against that wall.

“That curse is not going to work I’m afraid” Aziraphale spoke to the leader voice low and calm. With his hands behind his back and around the wooden post he called on heavens might to shatter it into pieces. In a rare moment of anger, the consequences of doing so did not cross his mind.

“You see I’m not a demon,” he said a hum in his tone like the thunder of a coming storm. One of the hooded figures broke ranks and rushed at him a sword raised high. Quick as lightning Aziraphale’s hand shot out snatching the blade from his attacker and knocking him out with the hilt. He held it out levelling it at the leader flames bursting forth from its hilt.

“I’m an angel” 

The last time Aziraphale had done some smiting wasn't so long ago that he felt rusty. A handful of the hooded figures had run off the moment a fire sword had entered into the equation. The ones that stayed all rushed Aziraphale together. He swung the sword leaving graceful arcs of embers in his wake cutting down his foes. When the last one fell he turned to the leader. As he faced the man a heavy woozy spell hit him. The leader was focusing very hard on him and it occurred to him that perhaps he was trying to alter his mind in some capacity. 

“So” he said staggering as he advanced on the throne “you've been drawing power from this demon eh?” 

The leader stepped forward holding a shaking hand up doubling down on his attack. Behind him, Crowley's body convulsed and Aziraphale pitched sideways just catching himself before falling off the platform.

“That's just about enough of that,” he said willing a part of the cave ceiling above loose. It came crashing down on the leader trapping him beneath. As the sound of settling rubble died the cave fell silent. Aziraphale picked himself up shaking the haze out of his mind and continued on his path toward Crowley. As he drew close he dropped the sword. The flame was out before it hit the ground. 

“My dear boy,” he said paling “what did you get yourself into this time?”

Crowley's eyes closed his body relaxing slightly.

“They set you quite a trap” he smiled weakly not knowing where to begin unpicking the painful gruesome prison. He lifted up one hand to support his Crowley’s head while he untied the leather straps with the other. He gazed at Crowley's battered face. He wasn't sure if he was unconscious or resting. He gently lowered his head to hang then placed his hand on the metal rod through Crowley’s sternum. Half-heartedly he tried banishing it but it stayed. He suspected it might be the case as at this distance he could see the runes on the wall were blood magic. He wrapped his fingers around the rod adjusting his grip to ensure he was holding it securely. He eyed Crowley nervously then with one swift yank pulled the rod out. Crowley gave a strangled cry in spite of himself then took a breath. It wasn't a breath of necessity, nor were many of those that followed, they were merely taken in to speak. 

“Cheers” he croaked, voice harsh and wet with misuse and damage. 

“You look quite the sight” Aziraphale commented reaching for the next rod “how long have you been here?” 

“4....no...5 years” he replied huskily before the next rod came out.

“Good lord!” Aziraphale exclaimed. 

“They'll fit in well in hell” he tried to joke his shivering body stuttering the line.

“We’ll have you out of here in no time” Aziraphale said yanking another two rods out freeing one of the demon's arms. His arm reflexively wrapped across his chest hand clamping over his no doubt aching neck. The movement was so vulnerable that it seemed private and Aziraphale blushed faintly. He quickly turned his attention back to the task at hand - freeing his legs. With a few more tugs they were unpinned.

“Pardon me, dear,” Aziraphale said wrapping an arm tight around his upper thighs and pressing gently into the length of Crowley’s torso to support the freed half of his body. Crowley wrapped a trembling arm and a wing around Aziraphale's shoulders. It was an awkward balancing act both parties were glad no-one was able to witness. 

Aziraphale pulled the last bolt out of Crowley’s body his weight slumping fully into his arms. 

“Thank Satan” Crowley groaned into Aziraphale's shoulder. He lowered Crowley to his feet without letting go.

“Can you stand?” Aziraphale asked. Crowley hissed as he pushed against the earth drawing himself up to full height and bracing himself against Aziraphale's smaller frame.

“Yesss,” Crowley said. He haltingly folded his wings away blanching with the effort. While his bleeding had stopped his body remained bloodied and bruised. Aziraphale assumed he could not perform miracles yet. He risked one more of his own pulling a black cloak from the air and wrapped it around him. Underneath a heavy hood, Aziraphale caught a weak smile.

“You're going to draw attention to yourself with all these miracles” Crowley ribbed him as they lurched towards the mouth of the cave.

“Yes.. well” Aziraphale sighed looking around, only now feeling a stab of guilt, at the cave littered with bodies, “I think I can claim this place as one of yours and call it a day” 

“Where are we going?” Crowley asked eyes closed as though processing sight was a feat too far.

“Some bad news on that front” Aziraphale answered “Your house has become occupied in your extended absence and as you so rightly put it I've done all the miracles I think I safely can today. Have you got it in you to send your new borders somewhere else?”

“You must realise my answer is no” Crowley said as he hobbled. 

“Well, then I guess that leaves my abode” Aziraphale offered.

Crowley nodded gingerly in approval. 

* * * 

From the moment Aziraphale crossed the threshold into his home Crowley collapsed into his snake form. It happened so suddenly Aziraphale almost tripped over with the spontaneous lack of weight leaning against him. Aziraphale bundled him up in the cloak, cleaned away the blood and dirt from the limp snake, and took him to his library. He laid him on a chair close to the fire. Once he was sure Crowley was comfortable he went to his study to debrief the day's actions with heaven. His home was not a sprawling local - rather a slightly larger than average dwelling, filled with shelves of books, comfortable chairs and warm tones. He and Crowley stood far apart in terms of style with Aziraphale’s main furnishing focus being on comfort while Crowley’s had always been about form and prestige. In this Crowley was lucky as he was to remain in his original form resting for several days on Aziraphale's most comfortable chair. 

Aziraphale checked on Crowley periodically over that time not 100% sure what to do with a resting snake. He thought about bringing him a mouse but it seemed abhorrent for Crowley’s first meal out of imprisonment to be a rodent. Regardless Crowley did not respond to the attempts to rouse him and eventually Aziraphale conceded to ‘waiting and seeing’ as the humans did. Aziraphale was deep in a book one evening when Crowley came to and shifted abruptly back into his human form.

“Lord save me!” Aziraphale jumped as the human shaped demon popped into existence. 

“Ssssorry” He hissed brow furrowed in concern “How do I look?” 

Aziraphale regarded him. He had the cloak from the cave wrapped around him and his body looked less lean beneath its heavy folds. His handsome angular features where reset and the spirit was returning to his eyes.

“A fair sight better than in the cave” Aziraphale remarked. Crowley’s lack of wounds and bruising was a relief to behold. He knew however that that wasn’t what Crowley was really asking “but structurally you are the same as before” 

Crowley’s slumped into the chair with relief. Aziraphale marked his page then put the book down. 

“Are you hungry?” Aziraphale asked standing to head to his kitchen.

“Starving” 

“Good. I picked up some things from the market in anticipation of you waking up” Aziraphale explained as he gathered a selection of meats, cheeses, vegetables, bread and wine. He’d barely set the plate down on the small table by the armchair before Crowley set upon it. Aziraphale sat down across from him having made up a small selection for himself as well. Once Crowley had ingested over half of what was there his ravenous eating slowed to a reasonable pace. Aziraphale noticed Crowley was staring at him. The gaze was intense. Before he could ask why Crowley spoke.

“I didn't see you for 6 years” Crowley mused eating slowly, his expression difficult to read. 

“Nor I you,” said Aziraphale hesitating before adding “it felt long”

“That it did” Crowley agreed dropping his gaze to his plate “we shouldn't do it again”

“...no” Aziraphale concurred slowly “If we can help it we shouldn't”

Silence fell over the room for a long moment. The atmosphere felt odd and stretched. Aziraphale tried to decide how to ask about Crowley’s imprisonment. His reserved nature was warring with his predilection for the demon. As usual, Crowley lept first. 

“My time with the brotherhood gave me a few new perspectives on life” he spoke with a with a cadence that suggested pre-meditation of his words. 

“Oh yes?”

“Yes. I realised I rather like being human-like. Not just the body and possessions and power but the eating and the lazing and the breathing. The taste of fresh air. The sensation of fabric on my skin” as he spoke absent-mindedly scrunching his toes into the rug beneath “the feeling of a full stomach. I guess you don't know what you've got sometimes eh?”

Aziraphale shook his head helpfully. 

“I was pinned to that wall for 5 years,” Crowley said, taking a heavy gulp of his wine to alleviate his sobriety “and I had none of that all those years. Couldn't breathe. Couldn't rest. Couldn't eat. My feet didn't even touch the ground” he snickered humorlessly. 

“My dear, I'm so sorry” Aziraphale hushed. 

“That wasn't the worst part though they...they wouldn't even talk to me. More than that they didn't know me. Not even in the way one knows an enemy” Crowley said in a distant voice. He finished his wine glass and Aziraphale decided that they were probably going to need the bottle tonight if not a barrel. He excused himself politely to retrieve some bottles. When he returned Crowley was standing by the fire looking into its flames. Aziraphale put the first bottle down and joined him by the fire. 

“Why did you come to get me?” Crowley asked as Aziraphale poured him another glass. The reflection of the flames danced in his eyes. 

“Well I..” Aziraphale fiddled with one of his dressing gown sleeves awkwardly “you see... existence is rather dull without you so eventually I... I simply had to come and find you”

Crowley breathed out deeply then downed his wine glass. He set the empty glass down on the mantelpiece.

“I also noticed something about you,” Crowley said “While I was on the wall”

“Oh?” Aziraphale asked. 

“You make me feel real,” Crowley said quietly “You make all this feel real” he said gesturing to the space around them. 

“How do you mean?” Aziraphale asked. 

“Do you remember when we saw Hamlet?” Crowley asked returning to Aziraphale.

“Yes. The Globe. It was marvellous” 

“Agreed. At one point Hamlet said ‘we know what we are but not who we may be’ and it really caught in my mind. You’re an angel. I’m a demon and that’s all our counterparts seem to think we are. That’s the sum of our parts to them. But you?” Although the term personal space would not exist for thousands of years Crowley stepped into Aziraphale’s. His expression was a rare picture of ardour “You see who I am. Every impact we have in the world is by command except those we have on each other. Those we choose. Those make us who we are. Those make this real. You make this real”

Aziraphale was at a loss for what to say and instead let Crowley’s words wash over him, a light feeling growing in his stomach. He felt as if he were melting in the admiring glow of Crowley’s gaze. 

“Aziraphale” Crowley said bringing his attention back. 

“Yes?”

“If you're interested...” Crowley added leaning conspiratorially close.

“Depends what you're thinking,” Aziraphale asked lowering his voice a little surveying the room trying to decide if he should be concerned about one of their sides listening in. Crowley took his hand gently and Aziraphale looked back.

“I thought we might try that ‘human dance’” 

“Oh,” Aziraphale said after a pause. His mind seemed to be falling behind in the wake of the suggestion. As he tried to comprehend his meaning Crowley took his other hand and brought it to his lips.

“Oh!” he exclaimed jumping slightly at the touch. His mind dredged up their conversation from hundreds of years before. The couple. Their dance. Sex.

“You’re red” Crowley commented.

“I beg your pardon” Aziraphale protested trying to pull together a shred of decorum “Angels do not flush” 

“Obviously” Crowley snickered. 

“I don’t mind if you’d rather give it a miss,” He said with a kind of serene honesty Aziraphale didn’t realise Crowley was capable of “I don’t need to. I just want to. With you” 

“Why?” Aziraphale asked. 

“Seeing you rain brimstone was... invigorating’ Crowley winked. 

“Crowley” Aziraphale scolded though there was no fire in his tone. They were treading new ground and Aziraphale wanted to understand why.

“If I get yanked out of here early for whatever reason. If I'm no longer stationed here…” Crowley said his calm belying an undertone of felt mortality “I want to have…had that with you” 

Aziraphale felt his heartbeat thrumming in his chest. Crowley let go of one of his hands moving it to brush Aziraphale's cheek and ear. His hand was soft and warm. 

“Well” Aziraphale hushed as Crowley leaned in hovering close to his lips “lets hope heaven doesn't hear about this”

The space between them felt hot and sweet. Aziraphale almost swooned watching Crowley wait for his approval. He gave the subtlest of nods, barely daring to ask for something so infernal. 

“Never will” Crowley hissed bringing their lips together. 

Though Crowley's kiss was almost chaste at first the contact sent a thrill through Aziraphale's very soul. Crowley flicked his tongue out tickling and teasing along the curve of Aziraphale's lips. His free hand reached down inside Aziraphale’s dressing gown, around to the small of his back and drew him close against his body. Aziraphale gripped Crowley’s hip with one hand and his jaw with the other. The world spun in a whirl of pleasant sensation. He let Crowley inside. 

Crowley’s tongue stroked his own the silence punctuated with wanton breaths. Aziraphale’s knees felt weak under the onslaught of his growing craving. Every crash of Crowley’s lips wasn’t enough. Every touch left him aching for the next. Aziraphale tangled his fingers into Crowley’s hair. As his nails dragged through the copper locks Crowley shuddered. So many lines of curiosity to sate, he thought, enjoying the way his touch affected Crowley. 

“I feel…” Aziraphale whispered “Drunk” 

“Suppose that must be part of it,” Crowley said fervently.

He folded Aziraphale’s gown away from his shoulders, slid it down off his arms and threw it to the side. Next began untying the drawstring of Aziraphale’s pants fingers brushing lightly along his lower abdomen. 

“Go easy, Dear” Aziraphale hushed pressing the back of his palm to his mouth with one hand and steadying himself on Crowley's shoulder with the other.

“I just want to get to more of you” Crowley reassured him as his pants fell to the floor. 

“Gracious...me” Aziraphale stammered eyes half-lidded hands resuming their hungry exploration. 

Aziraphale clawed down Crowley's spine. A purr rumbled through the demon’s chest and Aziraphale felt powerful for creating it. Crowley's nails found the backs of Aziraphale’s thighs. Aziraphale's whole body quaked. He felt a searing tingling sensation growing in his groin. 

Crowley drew his nails up the backs of the angel’s thighs, bunching his underwear up, into his ass cheeks and Aziraphale keened in response his wings abruptly bursting from his back and pushing against the shelves behind him like arms reaching out to steady himself. 

Crowley chuckled, eyes delightedly glinting at his discovery.

“What?” Aziraphale asked feverishly into his chest. 

“Your wings” Crowley nodded kneading Aziraphale’s ass his bunched underwear pulling and loosening tension throughout his crotch. Aziraphale threw a lush glance backwards then eyed Crowley slyly. 

“Wait-” Crowley scarcely spoke before Aziraphale used his wings to push off the shelves behind shoving them onto the floor. Crowley laughed as he hit the floor Aziraphale landing on top of him. 

Aziraphale almost glowed at the sound and dove into worshipping his neck with relish. Crowley’s hands went under his shirt again groping and massaging everything he could reach. Crowley shook with tenuous restraint as Aziraphale’s mouth hit the demon’s collar bone. He could feel Crowley’s sex hardening desperately against his own. 

“Angel” Crowley growled urging him on.

“Uh-uh” Aziraphale tutted and to punish him with the next kiss he sucked and tongued the skin before releasing it with a pop. Crowley’s body tensed and arched with ecstasy. 

“Right” He rumbled lifting one of his legs to tip their balance and roll them over so he was on top.

He started grinding luscious friction into their groins and ripped Aziraphale's shirt clean off. The second his chest was bare Crowley dipped down snaking an expert tongue to a nipple. Evolutionarily speaking Aziraphale had no need for nipples, or more accurately, until tonight he had no need for them. Crowley’s tongue and hips worked him till Aziraphale felt like he could almost cry with pleasure. Aziraphale’s body sung a symphony of teased senses popping with lust.

Crowley started sliding down further nipping and licking his way towards Aziraphale’s hips. Once he got to the chord of his underwear he began untying it with his mouth. One of his hands stretched down below Aziraphale’s cock and dug his hand inwards.

“Oh!” Aziraphale exclaimed “Oh my” 

Crowley snickered looking up. He watched Aziraphale’s jerking reactions as he began rubbing his hand up and back. Deep and hard between his ass cheeks and gentle and soft as he got closer to his sack. The fabric was straining under the pressure of the angel’s erection. 

“Ohmy-Crowley that is-” Aziraphale mumbled head tilting back eyes screwed shut.

“Good?” Crowley asked devilishly. Aziraphale nodded in response.

“Raise your knees, angel” Crowley commanded and Aziraphale complied without question. Crowley brought himself into a half crouch between Aziraphale’s legs and pulled Aziraphale’s underwear down from his waist and up and off his legs. He seemed to marvel for a moment at the sight before him. The angel laid out in front of him skin dusted with sweat and blush, penis achingly flushed and full, eyes half-lidded with titillation was gorgeous. He placed a hand under Aziraphale's right knee and lifted his leg slightly to bite the tender skin beneath. Aziraphale began moaning unable to stop himself. Crowley dragged his teeth gently down the tender skin. His free hand thumbed at Aziraphale’s other lower thigh. 

“Darling, please” Aziraphale sobbed all shame forgotten “Please” 

“More?” Crowley asked playfully. 

“Yes!” Aziraphale begged. 

“I don’t know if you know this about me” Crowley chatted attempting a casual tone in spite of the burning need he felt. He pushed Aziraphale’s thighs outwards and pressed his lips to the juncture where thigh and crotch met. Aziraphale lifted his head to watch him instantly. Crowley reached a hand up to graze a hip bone and kissed close enough to just brush the base of his shaft. Aziraphale fought the urge to jolt his hips up. Fighting his body was something he was not used to. Every nerve screamed for the demon. “But my tongue,” He said proudly allowing it to snake out and just ever so slightly lap Aziraphale's shaft as he moved up towards the tip “can do some really weird stuff” 

He hovered above Aziraphale’s cock for a moment before twisting his tongue around the punished nerve and dragging it down.

“Oh-Crowley” Aziraphale cried grabbing the top of Crowley’s mop of hair and the rug beneath them. The sensation was almost blinding. His world focused down to the tight slide of Crowley’s tongue down the length of his cock. With every lick thirst burned through him, with every twist of Crowley’s mouth his very being was exalted. Crowley closed his lips around Aziraphale adding a sucking motion to his tonguing. Aziraphale thrust to meet Crowley’s movements. Crowley pressed a hand gently into one of his hips not to cease the movement but to control it. He pulled his head off for a moment to lather the fingers on his other hand with saliva before returning to his suckling much to Aziraphale’s relief.

Then he felt Crowley’s wet fingers massaging at his asshole. Aziraphale writhed with arousal as Crowley massaged and played at the hole. He wrapped his legs around Crowley’s head groaning. He could feel Crowley’s hair and cheeks against his thighs and felt silly for blushing at Crowley’s vulnerability in the cave. His ass relaxed and Crowley’s fingers pushed inside feeling blindly. 

“THERE” Aziraphale shouted and Crowley took the cue working that spot till Aziraphale saw stars. Crowley pulled his head out from between Aziraphale’s legs and Aziraphale sobbed at the loss.

“Are you comfortable on the rug?” Crowley growled tone ravenous, lips and cheeks burning. 

“Yes” Aziraphale panted voice husky. Crowley lifted Aziraphale’s body - floppy with use onto its side and slid up behind him. He raised Aziraphale’s leg before guiding his penis between Aziraphale’s cheeks. With gradual mind-numbing stroking of his pre-come soaked head against Aziraphale’s asshole he pushed inside. Aziraphale pitched his head back so that it was under Crowley’s. Crowley bottomed out inside and they both trembled. 

“Give me your hand angel” Crowley whispered into his ear. Aziraphale moved to grip Crowley’s palm. Crowley entwined their fingers and brought them against Aziraphale’s chest. Aziraphale was overwhelmed by the gesture. He felt safe and...loved. Crowley kissed his neck and began rocking his hips back and forth. Aziraphale mirrored the movement driving the thrusts deeper. Their movements picked up speed the grinding becoming smacking. 

“Oh Crowley” Aziraphale babbled barely able to string a thought together “Oh muh-oh go-oh yes-” 

He wrapped a hand around his own shaft and held it tight as Crowley thrust faster. Crowley was breathing hard, high pitched grunts and cut off moans escaping.

“Angel” he stammered biting the back of Aziraphale’s neck “remind me to-thank god for you-sometime”

Aziraphale let go of Crowley’s hand to grab his hip and yank it forward hard. Crowley wrapped his now free hand across Aziraphale’s chest to grip him tighter. The slap of Crowley’s hips against his ass was exquisite. 

“Aziraphale give me eternity” Crowley snarled hitting the spot he’d found inside Aziraphale until it drove them over the edge. Aziraphale came in what felt like an explosion. All there was was him and Crowley crying out in a perfect moment that was both instant and infinite. Their shared energy burst forth thundering outwards through the village. As the quieting aftershocks shook them their movements slowed to languid thrusts then an entwined rest. 

Tingles thrummed contentedly through Aziraphale's muscles and across his skin and he felt melded to Crowley. Any soreness in his body stung sweetly with the memory of the pleasure that created it. Crowley leisurely nibbled Aziraphale’s shoulder. Aziraphale sighed under the feather-light touches and took the hand Crowley had left across his body.

“Well, my dear...” Aziraphale sighed caressing Crowley's knuckles “that was….it was…” 

“Ineffable?” Crowley whispered hoarsely into his hair.

“Without a doubt” Aziraphale laughed. 

* * *

All things being equal the changes made to The Arrangement did not alter the nature of it too much. There were some formalities that were done away with and some that remained. As beings without reproductive drives, Aziraphale suspected he and Crowley did not have sex as often as humans did or for the same reasons. It wasn't an imperative as much as it was their secret way to share what they meant to one another. It became a part of their vocabulary and their shared centuries-long routine. 

Upon reviewing it Aziraphale would definitely challenge his expectation of sex being like a dance. 

Sex was, indeed, nothing like a gavotte.

**Author's Note:**

> I really enjoyed writing in this more comedic almost conversational style. Terry and Neil really have a 'fun' shared approach to writing in Good Omens and I wanted to try and bring a little bit of that spice into this fic. Hope ya'll had a good time!
> 
> If you're interested in seeing some fanart of this there is a drawing of Aziraphale pulling Crowley off the wall (censored) on tumblr - http://seraph5.tumblr.com/post/183261837680/aziraphale-rescues-crowley-from-a-cult-circa
> 
> and a non-censored version here - https://www.pinterest.com.au/pin/439101032417257648/


End file.
